


Afterwards

by Mademoisellesnowflake



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Aftermath of Savoy, Angst, Aramis isn't really okay, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I don't really ship these three but take this however you will, It's supposed to be platonic, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, but he will be, but you can interpret it however you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:52:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10955349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mademoisellesnowflake/pseuds/Mademoisellesnowflake
Summary: The first of the many breakdowns Aramis had after Savoy.





	Afterwards

**Author's Note:**

> So I do know I promised continuation to Oh, my dear ghosts but maladaptive daydreaming happened and I wrote this (I promise to expand the other story I swear!)  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story and beware, Aramis really isn't okay in this one...

The first few weeks after all that went down at Savoy had been blessedly calm. Aramis had been recovering with the help of Athos and Porthos, the two men who had been recruited only weeks before Savoy but whom Aramis had instantly started a friendship with. His smiles and jokes had pulled Athos out of the mist he had been in ever since he had arrived at the garrison with a mighty black eye and a bottle of wine. Porthos had been relentlessly bullied by the older musketeers because of his skin colour and past in the Court of Miracles. The first time Aramis had heard of the bullying, he had promptly gone to the musketeer making fun of Porthos and told the man – who was at least one and half foot taller than Aramis – that if the man would not stop soon, his tongue and honour would be lost forever.

Athos and Porthos had felt like they’d been soaked in icy water when the news of the massacre had reached their ears. Treville had already ridden out to see the site himself with more experienced musketeers while Athos and Porthos had been assigned to guard the king. When Treville had finally returned with bloody and battered and hypothermic Aramis, he had told Athos and Porthos to stay with Aramis to make sure he would recover.

For three weeks Aramis had been recovering physically but he hadn’t spoken at all about the horrors that had passed. He wouldn’t go out much nor would he speak unless someone spoke to him first. He sometimes even addressed Athos or Porthos with the names of some of his fallen brothers but never as Marsac. He did have nightmares but he would not say a word about them when he was awake.

It wasn’t until the beginning of the fourth week when Aramis decided to say something about his feelings. Porthos had decided that Aramis was in need of a shave. His beard was resembling a bird’s nest and if Aramis had been himself, he’d have complained about it himself. While Porthos was shaving Aramis’ beard, Aramis looked at the sharp blade.

“If I moved now that blade would cut my throat”, Aramis said quietly.

“Yes, I believe it would”, Porthos answered. “Why do you say so?”

“I wouldn’t be burdening you anymore”, Aramis whispered. “I… I’d be gone like I should.”

“You’re not burdening anyone”, Athos told from where he was sitting on Aramis’ bed and reading a book. He closed the book and walked next to Aramis, knelt down and took Aramis’ hand into his own. “You are alive because that’s what you’re supposed to be and we are here to help you through everything that happened at Savoy.”

Athos could feel Aramis trembling. His whole body was trembling and he was looking at the wall but it was as if he was seeing something else. Suddenly Aramis’ free hand shot up to grab the blade Porthos was holding. However, Porthos was faster and moved the blade out of Aramis’ reach, causing a strangled sound to erupt from Aramis’ throat. He slowly got up while Athos followed, still holding Aramis’ hand. Athos slowly but steadily led Aramis to sit on his bed. He was still trembling and staring at the wall unseeingly. Porthos sat on Aramis’ other side and took his free hand in his own.

“Do you want to talk?” Porthos asked quietly. “Aramis?”

Hearing his name seemed to bring Aramis out of the depths of his mind. He looked at Porthos with wide eyes and then turned to Athos who was wearing a worried expression equal to Porthos’.

“At Savoy”, Aramis whispered, “I should have died there too…”

“You didn’t”, Porthos said, “and it makes us very happy that you didn’t because when we heard the news of the massacre… I didn’t know how I would survive with you being dead.”

“But I didn’t”, Aramis whispered. He had begun to shake violently and his eyes shone with unshed tears. “Why didn’t I die?” he asked with such a small voice that Porthos almost couldn’t hear.

“We don’t know”, Athos admitted. “But you being here has lifted the weight of the wold from our hearts.”

Aramis had lowered his head but Athos could see him biting his lower lip and tears running down his face. Athos sighed and put his arm around Aramis’ shoulders and pulled him closer, letting Aramis lean his head on Athos’ shoulder.

“Why won’t you let me go?” Aramis whispered through his quiet sobs. “Why do you want me to live?”

“Because you’re our friend”, Porthos said. “Because we love you. Because we don’t want to lose the only person who thought us valuable enough to defend us and help us when we weren’t doing well. Hell, because without you Athos would probably have destroyed himself and I would have no one! You’ve saved us; let us help you!”

Aramis made another distressed noise at the back of his throat and hid his face on Athos’ shoulder. Athos rubbed his friend’s back and tried to make soothing noises to calm Aramis down.

“Porthos is right”, Athos told quietly, “We don’t want to lose you because you are important to us.”

“What about the other twenty?” Aramis asked, his voice wet and paper-thin. “Are you telling me they weren’t special to someone? Are you telling me that Pierre wasn’t about to get married or that Antoine didn’t have loving parents who were waiting for him to return home?”

“Of course they were special to someone”, Porthos said. “But you were the lucky one who survived. And we are the lucky ones who got their friend back and we’re not going to let you die because you feel guilty for not dying with the other twenty musketeers.”

Aramis shook his head while still leaning on Athos’ shoulder. Porthos sighed, shook his head and hugged the other two. Aramis would need the Athos and Porthos during his recovery for a long time to come but at that specific moment, Porthos knew Aramis would eventually recover, no matter how long it would take.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the story & I'd love to hear your thoughts about this! :D


End file.
